


The Point of Autopilot

by HopeCoppice



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Space Husbands, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: Enjolras takes everything to do with his spaceship seriously. Courfeyrac, however, does not.For Les Mis Rarepairs Week!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [jolybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird) in the [lesmisrarepairsprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/lesmisrarepairsprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> this is 100% a test and also 100% not.

Captain Enjolras took everything to do with his ship seriously.

 

From the pirate colours painted across her nose to the name, _SS Patria_ , stamped across her stern, he loved every nanometre of the vessel, and he would not allow anything to distract him from his laser-precise focus on his mission. He took everything seriously – too seriously, some of his crew told him. But his was a serious business, and it could not be taken lightly.

“So, when are you taking me to the planet of perpetual ice-cream?” Unfortunately, not everyone agreed – including his husband.

“There is no such planet, Courfeyrac, and you know it.”

“Can't we discover one?” His first mate – one of them, at least - dropped into his lap and pouted at him. “Lighten up, Enjolras. I miss that stupid smile of yours.”

“How would you know? The way you talk, you'd think you never saw it.” But a smile tugged at the corners of his lips even as he spoke, and he could see that Courfeyrac wore a particularly smug expression in the few seconds before he kissed him.

 

When they broke apart, Enjolras leant around Courfeyrac to check the stars ahead of them, making sure they hadn't gone off-course, that there were no unexpected obstacles hurtling towards them at the speed of light.

“You know, our cabin's all cold and empty,” Courfeyrac was whispering in his ear, “and I don't want to be there by myself right now.”

“For the fifteenth time, Courf, we're not having sex on the bridge.” He glanced around nervously to see if any of the crew were in earshot before adding, “Again. That was a one-off.”

“Wasn't suggesting it.” Courfeyrac was the picture of wounded innocence, but just like the cargo hold full of forged Earth Masters six decks below them, pictures could be deceiving. “That's why we have autopilot.”

 

Enjolras stubbornly ignored him, frowning as he engaged the comm system. “Command to Rear Gunner, any sign of pursuit?”

The reply was slow in coming, and somewhat slurred.

“ _Nothing, Captain, just these pink elephants floating past the Canary Nebula.”_

“It's the Eagle Nebula, Grantaire, and- Are you drunk?”

“ _Little bit.”_ There was a crackle of static and the voice at the other end of the line changed. _“This is Prouvaire, Captain. I'm relieving R-Gunner Grantaire early so he can sleep it off. Situation normal.”_

“Thanks, Jehan. I'll see that he's properly medicated in time to take over again.”

 

Enjolras pressed a few buttons and spoke again into the device.

“Command to cargo bay. Please report.”

“ _Hello, Captain.”_ Musichetta's voice sounded halfway between a sigh and a laugh, as usual. _“Bossuet put a foot through a painting trying to see 'his nebula' through the universe's smallest porthole, but Aire's been adding to our stock on his off-hours so I think we'll be alright.”_

“How _is_ L'Aigle? Nothing broken, I hope?” That was Courfeyrac, who had obviously decided that if he couldn't beat his husband, he might as well join him.

“ _Only the painting, but he's gone to medbay anyway. He only just left.”_

“Copy that. As you were.” Enjolras switched frequency again. “Medbay, this is Command.”

“ _Hello, Enjolras,”_ Joly's grin was audible. _“Should I get a hangover remedy ready?”_

“I should kick him off the ship at the next planet, I really should,” Enjolras growled, and Joly laughed.

“ _But then we'd have no fun. Besides, he makes excellent forgeries. Keeps us in fuel- oh, sorry, I've got a patient. Hi, Bossue-”_ The line clicked, and Enjolras let out a soft _tsk_ at the breach of protocol.

 

“I'll peel you away from this steering column eventually,” Courfeyrac told him, “you can't resist me. Maybe I'll just start taking clothes off, right here-” Enjolras reached for the communications device again and he cut himself off abruptly. “-Maybe not.”

“Command to First Mate Combeferre.” The words echoed around the bridge from tiny speakers in the ceiling above their heads, reverberating throughout the ship. “Please contact the bridge.” He switched back to a private channel and waited. The reply didn't take long.

“ _What can I do for you, Enjolras? As long as it doesn't involve waking anyone up, we sleep in shifts for a reason-”_

“No, nothing like that. Grantaire gets an early wake up tomorrow, but other than that... I know the crew need to sleep.”

“ _So do you. When did you last slee-?”_

“That's why I'm calling, actually. Will you relieve me at the bridge?”

There was a pause. _“Courf's there, isn't he?”_

“He is.”

“ _Oh, for- engage the autopilot, I'm on my way. But Captain, get some sleep when you can. Both of you. I am not letting Marius steer the ship if you pass out.”_

“You'd better not. And I will. Thank you, 'Ferre.”

 

Enjolras clicked off the transmitter, threw the control switch to 'AUTO', and turned his attention back to Courfeyrac.

“Now, you were saying something about taking off your clothes?”

“Unless you want to get 'Ferre involved...” Courfeyrac waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I think that had better wait until we get back to our cabin.”

“I think you may be right,” Enjolras murmured, and began pushing him towards the door.

“Oh Captain, my Captain!”

“Shh.”

 

Captain Enjolras took everything to do with his ship seriously. From the pirate colours painted across her nose to the name, _SS Patria_ , stamped across her stern, he loved every nanometre of the vessel – almost as much as he loved his husband.

 


End file.
